


Pet Project

by MeltyRum



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Persona 3
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: A woman and her company's project.
Kudos: 5
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	Pet Project

It wasn’t too hard for Genji to control his nerves, regardless of how much his cybernetic enhancements might be currently assisting him with that. The truth was that he had gotten rather used to mingling with important people in his previous life. Just because he had quickly decided that the yakuza life wasn’t for him didn’t mean that he wasn’t used to being present for many of the events his father hosted—that was a family matter, after all. And when it wasn’t family matters, he’d had enough of his father’s money to throw around that—even on his own time—he could be shaking hands and rubbing elbows with a wide assortment of powerful, self-assured people.

So while Mitsuru Kirijo cut a cold, impressive, and daunting figure, it wasn’t anything that Genji hadn’t seen before. He could remain calm enough; in all honesty, he could already see himself getting along with her better than he did with Mikio… but maybe he was getting ahead of himself, since there was no proof that Mitsuru was interested in him as anything more than a pathway to profit. The Kirijo Group was a business conglomerate, after all, so she was no doubt more concerned about the bottom line than the “human” cost involved in Genji’s revival.

Either way, she must certainly be concerned or curious about _something_ , since she had (according to Mikio) threatened to cancel funding to the project—or to remove Mikio from it altogether—if he did not allow her to plainly see their progress so far. That made sense; Genji’s body was likely a very expensive one, even if the company itself only had to pay for the labor of several people. Well, Genji wasn’t sure what she would want to see, but hopefully satisfying her curiosity would be enough. Mitsuru probably set her standards rather high, but he could see no reason why they might not be able to meet them, associations with the yakuza notwithstanding.

This situation is what landed Genji in Kirijio’s office now, sitting alone on the opposing side of her desk, since Mitsuru had just dismissed Mikio. The engineer had tried to pull Genji out of the office for last-minute coaching, but she had adroitly vetoed the idea, declaring that it shouldn’t be too difficult for Genji to provide the truth of the project _without_ Mikio’s help. They could always go over the technical details at a later date, as long as the results so far could satisfy the company’s mid-term goals—whatever those were.

“Before we get started, can I interest you in something to drink? I’m not certain how long this conversation will be—or if you can drink at all, for that matter.” She sat stiffly in her seat, not making a move.

Genji shook his head. “Drinking is about all I can do, in fact—but I think that I should be fine without. If you have any questions, we may as well get started.”

She nodded, apparently relieved to get right down to business, even though he could see the tell-tale way she quirked her head at him, the way people often did when they first heard his metallic voice. “I must say I was a little surprised to see you arrive in a suit, Shimada-san. I imagined that Shirato-san would be eager to show off the body he had sculpted for you.”

Genji chuckled. “You imagine correctly, but I am afraid I insisted on it.” He shifted a little in his seat; the suit fit a little oddly on his metallic frame, but he hoped that it would convey to the CEO that he took this all seriously enough. If what he’d heard about the relationship between Mitsuru and Mikio was all true, then the cyborg was certain he could handle their discussions much better than his mechanic could, and that all started with making the kind of efforts—superficial though they may be—that any business mogul would appreciate. The same was true for yakuza:quite a lot could be communicated about a person if they carried themselves proudly in a nice suit.

And Kirijo probably wasn’t stupid. What she didn’t trust was not necessarily the _tech—_ whose high quality she likely already knew to expect from Mikio—but Genji himself, alongside Mikio’s handling of him.

However, it didn’t hurt to let the executive feel like she was in control, so why not put the ball in her court?

“But if my dress is not to your taste, I do not mind removing it,” he added, doing his best to hide the amusement he felt at boldly offering to strip before a powerful woman like Kirijo. “I typically keep my ‘newer’ features concealed, for the sake of convenience.”

“That’s… alright,” she replied, although it looked for a moment like she was seriously considering his offer. “I still have some of Shirato-san’s notes, and we will see plenty more of you in the future, if all goes well. This meeting isn’t a technical demonstration as much as it is a… personal one.”

“Of course. I hope that I can present myself well enough to meet your standards, Kirijo-san.”

She looked slightly taken aback at this, as though surprised at his manners. “I’m glad to hear it, Shimada-san, but—with respect—I am most interested in hearing the truth regarding you, the project, and the nature of Shirato-san’s control over it. I know that he can be quite… _possessive_ of his work, and although that feeling is not entirely undeserved, it has created some interpersonal difficulties in the past. Are there any issues of that ilk that you would like to address here?”

Genji sat back in his chair, thinking about that for a moment. There was certainly no love lost between he and Mikio, but he knew he should probably be a bit more measured in his answers. Perhaps it would be best to think of this as a test of Genji’s humanity—to see if he was the right recipient for Mikio’s technology.

“I will admit that Shirato-san and I often do not see eye to eye,” he began, resisting the seductive temptation to toss his engineer squarely in front of the bus. “But when it comes down to the work, he is civil enough, albeit very direct. Perhaps it is his career that sits at the front of his mind, but he has never _completely_ forgotten that I am human,” he added, smiling.

Mitsuru did not return his smile; maybe she wasn’t much for jokes?

“That is good to hear,” she said hollowly, as though she didn’t believe it herself. “How do you feel about your involvement in this, Shimada-san? I understand you did not exactly volunteer.”

“I have had mixed feelings,” he admitted, looking down at one of his metallic hands, actually growing rather accustomed to how it looked sticking out from his suit jacket. “After all, Shirato-san did turn my body into… _this…_ without requesting my input, but it is difficult to argue that dying would have been preferable—not to mention that he could _not_ have gotten my opinion, even if he wanted it. Still, it is certainly a situation in which I never imagined I would find myself.”

“I understand,” she said, bringing a hand to her chin and slowly tapping her philtrum as she considered it. No doubt this was a sticky situation for her, as well, considering the legally dubious nature of the work they had done on him. “I share some apprehension regarding the nature of Shirato-san’s project, but the truth of the matter is that the Kirijo Group—that is to say, _I—_ am ultimately responsible for providing him permission to move forward with it. I will not make assumptions of your feelings, but no one could blame you for being resentful of your current situation, since you never asked to be here; consequently, if you have misgivings or complaints regarding the existence of the Kaiju Killer project itself, they should be leveled at me, not Shirato-san.”

It was Genji’s turn to be taken aback, not having expected a desk-riding executive to be so blunt about accepting her share of the blame. He couldn’t deny that it made sense, however: even if it was Mikio’s work, it was being conducted in Kirijo laboratories, which meant that Mitsuru’s name could not be scrubbed from the results of the program, regardless of whether it ended in success or failure. And even if it succeeded, Genji was, in a sense, a glorified guinea pig—one who had the fortune of being alive and well enough to make things very troublesome for the Kirijo Group, if he wanted to. Maybe he had misunderstood the power balance here; perhaps Mitsuru was concerned about Genji’s well-being not because she wanted to determine the health of the project, but because Genji was holding a piece of her company’s reputation hostage, in a roundabout sense. It was in her best interests to keep him satisfied—especially if Mikio wasn’t going to great lengths to do so.

He tried not to laugh. Fortunately for Kirijo-san, he wasn’t the type to take advantage of her that way. If it had been a few years earlier, perhaps…

“I have no complaints at the moment, but if I think of any pressing ones, I will be sure to raise them to you,” he said diplomatically. “As I have expressed to Shirato-san myself, I am not ungrateful for having been resuscitated, even though my pride and my agency seem to have paid a modest price in return for the gift. I am cooperative for now, but I will still treat my life as my own: if I ever decide that my well-being or future is not being properly considered, I have no qualms about leaving the Kirijo group altogether.”

He paused briefly, looking up to the ceiling in thought, before adding: “As Shirato-san knows the most about my body, I understand that I may not live long if I choose to go without his—and your company’s—assistance, which is why my leaving is something that will only happen in an extreme circumstance—if the need to assert my individuality overrides my need to survive. But that is certainly not intended as a threat, Kirijo-san; I just want you to understand that I am familiar with the possibilities before me.”

She nodded slowly, letting a shallow sigh exhale from her nostrils. “That seems like a sensible way to think of things, Shimada-san. While I cannot promise you every comfort, I will admit that the company has overstepped its bounds with you, even if you are amicable about the outcome so far. Since you will have to live with the results of the modifications no matter what, it would make most sense to officially bring you under the payroll of the Kirijo Group.”

Genji blinked, wondering if he was about to get a sudden job offer, or something. Perhaps he should not mention that Shinra was already paying him from his own pocket… “I believe that my needs are already being covered by the project’s budget, Kirijo-san.”

Mitsuru shook her head. “I know that, but this undertaking aims to turn you into a hero; you should be provided a stipend for the unfortunate case where you are unable to become one, and—since you are not currently a registered hero—it would make sense to make this available to you immediately. Not to mention that you should be compensated for the time you have already spent here.” She picked up a pen, jotting down a few notes that Genji could not make out.“If you don’t mind, it would be easiest to make you an employee—or a consultant.I know it’s only money, and I know it’s a bit late, but it would ease my conscience if you accepted.”

Genji swallowed, not having expected something like this. He half-expected to need to argue for the funding of the project when he first walked in, but now it looked like she was preparing to… spend even more money? He had to admit that it was a flattering offer, though: being paid for his services as a “consultant”, eh? That was certainly a nice way to put it. When Mitsuru put it that way, it made complete sense; her company should certainly take responsibility for him, regardless of Kaiju Killer’s overall success. Only…

“Your offer seems quite generous, but there is the issue of my death,” he stated with a smile.

“Ah, that’s right,” she said, putting a hand to her forehead and sighing more vocally. She wrote something else down on her notepad. “Allow me to look into it personally. It shouldn’t be too difficult to prove you are, in fact, alive—and since your remains would never have made it into the authorities’ hands, it should be easy to void any current death certificate. When it’s taken care of, I’ll bring you an official offer.” She hesitated before the next bit, as though worried of the disadvantage she was creating for herself: “While I hope you will accept it, you should feel free not to do so.”

“I am sure we will come to an agreement, Kirijo-san,” Genji tried to assure her. He could see why she was worried: he could already besmirch the name of her company if he felt the whim to do so, so it would be trivial for him to refuse any contract that might offer enough to “purchase” his compliance. The cyborg was surprised that she had so much faith in him; if insignificant things like human comfort concerned her, maybe she was not such a ruthless businesswoman after all.

Still, from her demeanor alone it was easy to imagine how she might make a boardroom turn ice cold, every once in a while.

“Good. I appreciate your cooperation thus far, Shimada-san. There are a few other things I wanted to ask about, however. I was hoping you could enlighten me as to your… _family_ situation?”

 _Family_ , she said. Genji couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Since my attempted murder, I am no longer tied to them. In truth, they are the ones who are to blame for it. Whether or not the Shimada Clan honors my name, I have no reservations in saying that I am no longer part of them.” He bowed his head to punctuate this last statement, but a smiled returned to his face as he went on. “In fact, rather than being concerned about my family history, I believe it is something that could be to our advantage.”

Her eyes lit up with intrigue at this proclamation. “How do you mean?”

“Considering the circumstances of my supposed ‘death’, I think that the public will not question my motivations. If anything, it should add to the drama of my origin story—market me as the heated enemy of the yakuza, if you wish; as a hero fan myself, I believe you can go a long way by making the mythology of it exciting.”

A mirthful smile graced her lips, some air audibly escaping her nostrils as she stifled some laughter. “A very creative angle. Very well: if that’s how you feel about it, I suppose there’s little I can do other than take your word for it that your ties will not be an issue—although that does not mean the media will not try to take advantage of it.”

“Yes, I would be very surprised if they did not,” replied Genji. “But I feel that I can take care of myself; naturally, I will do my best not to behave in any way that may reflect poorly on your company—when the time comes, I mean. I do not mean to get ahead of myself.”

She nodded, apparently satisfied to take his word on this, too. “Speaking of that, are you comfortable with the idea of being a hero? Do you think you will be capable of becoming one? Even if you do, it goes without saying that such status will be taken advantage of by Shirato-san… and by the Kirijo Group, as you alluded to.”

He took some time to collect his most diplomatic thoughts on the matter, stroking the steel of his jaw. “While I will admit to harboring some resentment at being your the Kirijo Group’s technological billboard—and Mikio’s pet project—the truth is that I have wanted to be a hero for a long time, so I welcome this second chance at life—one more or less free from my past. In a way, you are giving me what I have wanted for a long time.” Genji resisted the urge to bow, eager to show his gratitude (to someone besides Mikio) but uncertain that she would appreciate such theatrics.

Despite his restraint, she descended into a wooden silence, searching him with a neutral gaze that betrayed no hint of pleasure or displeasure. Genji could only imagine what she might be thinking, but he could not shake the feeling that he was being carefully measured—that Mitsuru Kirijo had placed him on one end of the scale and was carefully adding things to the other, trying to determine the worth of his weight.

He hoped only that he would not be found lacking, especially since he could claim to be speaking with sincerity. The circumstances may not have been of his choosing, but he was _born_ to be a hero, _yearned_ for it. A childish and naive dream particularly for someone born into a ruthless crime syndicate—a thought that must have crossed her mind just now—but it now seemed obvious to him that one could not help the ambitions that they coveted. Perhaps this would be the snag that saw Mitsuru dismantling the entire project: the simple idea that a yakuza flunky—a recently barbecued one, at that—could _never_ be accepted as a hero.

To his surprise, though, she had nothing more to say on the matter:

“Very well. If you don’t mind, I’d like to know whatever you can tell me about Shinra Kishitani. I’ve been briefed on his involvement, but I know very little about the man himself, since Shirato-san appointed him… unilaterally,” she muttered, clearly attempting to conceal some distaste at this. “Do you have any concerns?”

Again, Genji had to work valiantly in order to control his amusement. Concerns about Shinra? More like, he might have already fried himself if he only had Mikio to interact with…

“Shinra is likely the least of your worries,” said Genji, with as much supplication as he could muster. This might not even be true, since Shinra was likely informing everyone polite enough to listen about the cyborg he helped build, but… it would be public knowledge soon enough, wouldn’t it? “He is even more of a hobbyist than Shirato-san, and I would not be where I am now without him. Shinra is just as—if not more—responsible for saving my life as Shirato-san, so perhaps I am a bit biased. He is also, I admit, a friendlier sort than Shirato-san—but I have no concerns about his professional conduct.”

He paused, uncertain if he should add any more detail, but eventually decided she deserved to know: “In fact, I am currently sharing an apartment with him.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry… you mean you’re staying at his residence?”

“Yes. Perhaps that is another reason to take my endorsement with a grain of salt.”

Mitsuru closed her eyes and raised a hand, brushing a few strands of hair from her face and tenderly holding her forehead with a few fingers, as though she were developing some sort of headache. “No. If both you and Shirato-san trust him, then I suppose I have no reason to complain. It’s reassuring to hear that he is assisting you outside the lab, as well.”

Genji nodded. “He has become a true friend, so I am glad that you see it that way.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” said Mitsuru, rising from her seat to turn and look for a moment out of her window. “I believe I have run out of questions for you at the moment, Shimada-san, but I appreciate your taking the time to meet with me.” She turned back to her desk, setting her notes aside and meeting his eyes with her gaze. “Are there any questions I can answer for you?”

He hid his surprise at the offer, taken slightly by surprise. “Er—no, I do not think so. Except… does this mean the project is safe, Kirijo-san?”

She smiled. “I didn’t say that, but… it is true that I have no intention of canceling it, at this point. It appears that Kaiju Killer is in fine hands, and I can’t say I am dissatisfied with the results so far. I hope that you will be able to realize your ambition, Shimada-san; not that I am speaking from experience, but the road to becoming a hero is not an easy one, you understand.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Yet you sound rather confident,” she observed, apparently amused.

Genji nodded, rising to his feet in order to stand level with her. “Of course,” he began with a grin. “You could say—at this point—that I am built for heroism. And while you have no reason to believe me, I can promise you that I will put every effort into realizing the project’s goal. It will not be long before you see my name in the hero rankings, Kirijo-san.”

Mitsuru’s smile took on a knowing satisfaction that told Genji he was not the first hero to have graced her office. “I look forward to it,” she said, offering her hand. “In order to match your efforts, I will do what I can in order to facilitate your success.”

He grasped her hand in turn, as confident in their understanding as he was in himself. “I appreciate it very much. Thank you for your time, Kirijo-san.”


End file.
